Spirits' Design
by Sayle
Summary: The Fire Nation is embroiled in a war lasting one hundred years, and it is simply accepted as a fact of life. One girl exhibits unusual bending abilities, and it will play a greater role than could ever be expected...or hoped. OC. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1: Goodbye

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. Yet. But I do own my characters. Keep your thievin' hands off em'!

Writing this chapter was easy, I admit it. Perhaps one day I'll go through it wistfully and pump it full of enough detail to explode, but at the moment I'm happy to continue with the story. This may seem short, but I wanted to express this as it will have an impact later on. No, I'm not telling you how. With a girl as the main character I just know that something unpleasant is going to happen to my masculinity. I'm getting too fluffy. Even if fluffy things are cuddly.

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

The sun rose over the horizon, sending orange and golden rays to caress the faces of the young couple who sat at the lip of the cliff, looking across the glittering, almost glass-like ocean. Looking across to lands of whirlwind romance and a bloody war, almost with a look of longing shared by both a pair of deep chocolate brown eyes and a pair of crystal, bright blue ones. The girl had laid her head on his shoulder and stared out across water with a look of plain contentment. The boy, for he was little more than a boy, there seemed a sense of foreboding about him, though he was clearly happy for the company.

The girl was a pretty sort, but hardly radiant. Light brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, breaking off into individual strands just as it reaches her lower back. Her blue eyes are an odd trait, but not so unusual to be astonished by, and they glitter a little as she enjoys the view. Light brown skin, pulling off the delicate balancing act between looking unnatural and exotic, seems unblemished and smooth. Her small nose and slight turning up at one corner of her mouth only serve to make her look cute and more appealing. She was prettier than most, certainly, and the boy she was currently using as a pillow was more than happy to have her.

The boy was rather plain, hardly a heartthrob, but did have a friendly look about him. Those soft brown eyes were not heavy-lidded as hers was, and seemed more alert than was needed. His skin was paler than that of his companion's, and he seemed the perfect image of a fit, caring lad, with short cut hair shifting slightly as a breeze ruffled it, a few rebellious hairs straining to make its way over his eyebrows. Tomorrow he would be a man, with his birthday toppling him straight over the line into his sixteenth year, and the inevitable draft. It wasn't that the war was unpopular. It seemed more a fact of life, and nobody really questioned why it was even happening.

There was a slight movement, and he turned down to look at his companion.

"Kuzon…" she muttered sleepily, obviously on the threshold of falling asleep, where thoughts move sluggishly but nonetheless persistently. Kuzon smiled a little, and affectionately brushed a stray brown hair away from where it was resting at the side of her nose back behind her ear.

"Yes?" Aaryn opened her eyes a fraction wider and stared up at him, a sudden wave of sadness welling up inside her. Kuzon was caring, soft, and never selfish. He was, in so many ways…perfect.

"Are you…" she hesitated a little. "Scared?" He looked away, away from the sun, away from her. It was an embarrassing question, she understood that. He swallowed a little, the motion of his throat looking odd from her position.

"Am I…scared?" He said slowly. "Yeah…I'm scared."

Aaryn suddenly felt a little guilty and sad that she had even asked the question. So many men and boys she knew would have shouted at her for that question, for insulting their honour. Kuzon understood, though. He always understood her, and now he was leaving. He was leaving to fight in some stupid, stupid war, and she couldn't do a thing about it.

"I'm…I'm going to miss you. A lot." It sounded lame, weak, lacking in substance. But there was a timbre in her voice that suggested she was trembling a little, inside. Some warmth suddenly rose up and blocked her throat, and she just stared up at him.

Kuzon looked down at her, and his eyes were shimmering. Was what they had love? He didn't think so, and she didn't either. It was a connection that went a lot deeper than friendship, almost like the bond of a brother and sister, with a hint of flirty romance as they grew up together. But they both knew quite well that it wasn't love in the romantic sense, but it seemed somehow much more important. He leant down a little, and slowly kissed her. Her right hand came to rest on the front of his tunic and scrunched it up in a light grasp, and she couldn't help but blush a little, her cheeks colouring slightly as the golden dawn played over them.

The kiss was…indescribable. It was warm, but not passionate. Caring, but not possessive. It was as if all his warmth and all his being had been poured into a single moment for her to touch and savor and love. His tunic felt rough under her hand, his lips soft against hers, his breath brushing against her cheek as he breathed, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, as if there was something he didn't risk breaking inside her, he drew away.

"Aaryn." There was heartbreak in that word, and it almost stuck in his throat. It was all he needed to say, and she understood. He and hugged her as she fell into him, hugging him tighter than he knew she could. As her arms seemingly tried to trap him with her forever, a grief unlike anything she had felt ripped through her. So they sat together as she sobbed into his tunic and tears silently rolled down his cheeks and mingled with her hair.


	2. Chapter 2: Faceless

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender.

Okay, I'm just going to clarify that this is going to be the last "omigod I'm so sad" chapters. They get very repetitive, and I want to get on with the story! You may be wondering why so far all the updates have been so short. It may be because I'm lazy, or it may be because I'm aiming to update it at reasonably regular timespans. Or it may be because I'm just lazy. I haven't decided yet. I also feel a bit guilty again about the level in detail in this. I'll be better, I promise.

Buttons: I really appreciate the assurances that my manhood will remain intact. Hehe. Other than that, I'm glad somebody showed interest.

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

It was a pleasant day, and the docks buzzed with activity. Giant cranes creaked loudly as gears and iron grated against one another, carefully manoeuvring cargo into the holds of the leviathan-like warships. They seemed so imposing, so frightening, so…lifeless. The dark black of the hull plating made it seem so soulless, so devoid of any human touch that could lend any personality to it. It was one of hundreds such warships, all alike.

Aaryn shivered a little, wrapping the crude brown cloak around her a little more tightly. Kuzon's birthday had been subdued, less joyous than those before it. His parents stood there, holding each other, trying to muster smiles and barely succeeding. His younger friends stood in the background, strangely subdued he stared at his present. The long dagger was good quality, good make, and perfectly suitable for its purpose. But Kuzon had stood there, and when he picked it up a look of sadness crossed his face.

Aaryn had known what he was thinking. Kuzon was no pacifist, but he always saw the best in people, and never rose even a finger in anger. Soon his purpose in life would be to fight on order, kill on order. The dagger was like him. Purpose forged to maim and kill. At that point he had covered it again with the delicate paper it came wrapped in, and shakily said he would look at it later, when he had more time.

His orders came the next day. Aaryn was angry. She was angry that her best friend, her greatest care, would be called away to kill and be killed in turn in some war nobody even knew the real reasons for anymore. She didn't say it out loud though. There was the quiet knowledge that it had to be justified, and she didn't doubt it.

So now she stood out in the docks, stonily and bitterly watching the workers load the ship that would take him away. Looking down at the ground, she scuffed her foot against the ground, her sandal brushing up some dirt and embedded pebbles. Then she wordlessly turned around and went into the barracks. The non-enlisted were not allowed in, but for those about to leave home for the first time exceptions were usually made, off the record. The guard on the gate gave her a sad look when she asked to enter to see him, but made no comment as she went in.

Kuzon was sitting at the far end of the long room on a simple wooden bench, holding his helmet in his hands and staring at it sadly. Beside him lay a heap of armour, and Aaryn smiled bitterly. Being a firebender, he was one step higher than most enlisted troops, but he would also be put in far more danger. Curse the spirits for this 'gift'. It was likely to get him killed.

She made her way down to him, past seasoned soldiers and new alike. Some gave her a pitying look, but most just ignored her, well used to the flows of grief which meandered through the barracks. She sat down on his right side, and he was no flanked by her and the armour. He sighed and looked down at his lap.

"I need to get ready." Aaryn felt a twinge in her chest. It was the tired acceptance in his voice, the strained quality of it that saddened her. Wordlessly, she nodded.

She later thought it should have been awkward, disrobing him there. But she didn't even blush, instead mechanically stripping him off and replacing his soft clothes with an elastic bodysuit. It didn't stretch much, and it was a shade larger than it needed to be, but it was there to provide warmth and to prevent chafing. Then she began to pick up the armour and help him.

They were quiet, accompanied only by the hiss of the steam heating and the occasional rustle from up the room as others prepared. The armour clanked as it settled onto him, each sound like a deathknell to her. It was painful, but she stuffed the pain deep down inside to where it couldn't hurt her. Finally, all that remained was the helmet, and as she held it she looked up at him.

It felt heavy in her hands, and she looked down at the faceplate. It was like a skull, a leering skull. Swallowing, her fingers gripping it so hard the tips went white, she slid the helmet over his head, but refused to relinquish the faceplate. Looking down at it, then him, she withdrew a little, then broke and threw herself forward. And she kissed him.

It was furious, nothing like the kiss of a few mornings ago. It was fierce and burningly possessive. She funnelled all her anger into it, all her grief and pain, all her longing for what could have been. Then she withdrew. It had said all she needed to say, as her soft lips met with his and refused to let him go for that long moment.

"Promise me…" she whispered. "Promise me you won't put this on until you are gone." She wordlessly offered up the faceplate, and he gently took it from her unresisting hand.

"I promise." It was a simple thing to say, and it seemed like there wasn't much more that needed to be said. Aaryn turned and left.

* * *

She watched sadly as they boarded. She watched as dozens of armour-clad figures boarded, seemingly every single one identical to the last. That hurt, more than anything else. She was standing on top of a nearby bluff, and the wind buffeted her from every direction. But she stood still, and refused to leave until it was over. In the distance, she saw one stop in the middle of the deck and look about one last time, and she saw the missing blotch of white where his face was. For a long moment, she held her breath. Then the blotch of white slid up, and he was gone. 

She stood there a while longer, watching the ship prepare to leave. It was painful, to know he was so close, but that at this moment he may well have been half-way across the ocean. Taking a deep breath, feeling everything well up inside her like an impending explosion, Aaryn slid off her cloak and rolled it up, pressing her face into it. Then she screamed, and screamed, and screamed. In a nearby rock pool, the water rippled in time to her yells and sobs.


	3. Chapter 3: Unusual Events

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. But I will own the world one day, so I'm pretty sure at that point it will fall into my jurisdiction.

This chapter was interesting to write, mainly because I'm amazed at myself for managing two chapters in one day. I'm usually much more lazy. And I move the plot along faster. Oh well. I hope you enjoy it, and remember, your reviews give reason to continue it. And it fuels my ego. You want at least one of them, right?

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

It was, in retrospect, a perfectly normal day. Once every week Aaryn, and the majority of the girls in the town, were taught Firebending. Since her trip to the docks several miles away with Kuzon, Aaryn had refused to leave the confines of the town. Although in reality it straddled the line between a villiage and town. It was practically self-sustaining, but it still had some of the luxuries not to be expected from the average group of farmers and shopkeepers. The nearby docks - the source of much of Aaryn's pain - were a much appreciated boon to the economy. 

So the Firebending classes were reasonably small in numbers, especially when ability was taken into account. Master Pian(with which Aaryn often exhibited an unusual interest in anagrams) was no doubt an excellent teacher, and his time was occupied almost every day. He was supportive, if possessive of a short temper. A long, rebellious brown beard which seemed to claw its way down to his sternum often didn't help him seem reputable, and Aaryn refused to admit that she actually enjoyed her sessions. Sometimes.

Today there were only three of them, all roughly the same age. Aaryn felt a little lurch as Master Pian announced that Shya had been moved up a set due to her ability, even though she was only about a month older than the rest of the girls. Kuzon was excellent, if not overly powerful, and prone to bouts of introspection that sometimes interfered with his discipline. Kuzon had always helped her with problems, and her performance had slipped since he left. Before she had been just as good as Shya, if not better.

Her crushed look was not lost the instructor, and he sighed sadly. It was not uncommon for him to occasionally alter his lesson plans. After all, was not Fire unpredictable? At least, that was his justification. "For the lesson today, we will spar. Rika, Aaryn. You two first. Any tactic is acceptable, first to make contact or break defense wins." Rika immediately broke out into a grin, and Aaryn felt a little better herself. Repeated movements and Forms were insufferably boring after several lessons in a row.

Moving to opposite sides of the small, wooden-paneled training room, they bowed to each other, right fist held against the bottom of the vertically pointed palm. It was ceremonial, mostly. Rika held no real respect for Aaryn, mainly because of a rather unfortunate prank on her first day. Personally Aaryn still held the burning hair braid to be quite funny, although she had since come to regret it on several occasions. There was a small running feud, now.

There was a moment of silence as the two looked over each other, faces perfectly serene and the picture of two classmates who are simply about to practice.

"Begin." The command was terse, simple, and the reaction immediate. Rika dropped into an aggressive stance and threw a roaring ball of fire straight at her opponent, the hungry, licking flames oddly more sinister than usual. Aaryn took a deep breath and for some reason unknown to her didn't do what she intended. Instead of leaping out of the way and preparing to counter-attack, she instead thrust out her right hand, letting out an explosive breath as her palm made contact with the fireball.

Master Pian instantly cringed as moved forward to stop the fight when instead of moving to lick over her arm and sear the skin the flame instead burst over her head in an arc, acting as though an invisible barrier protected her. Reaching up, back of her right hand brushing along the side of the flame as it sailed over her head, she almost dragged it down her side, allowing it to come into the range of her left hand, which cupped the other side even as the back of her right hand continued to guide it to her center – where all the power from a strike came from.

Her left hand almost lazily brushed around the edge of the fireball, which was now coalescing back into its original shape. It continued to skirt round the edge until the back of her left hand was next to her right. Left foot sliding forward, she thrust out both the backs of her hands, and the fire smashed into the floor in front, a black chrysanthemum forming on the wooden panelling, but as Aaryn lifted up her arms in a follow-through motion a sheet of flame roared up from the point of contact with the floor. The whole motion had taken less than five seconds.

Rika screamed in shock and the beginning of a flame shield roared up from the floor, seeking the protect her from the wave of fire by absorbing it and redirecting it to her own protection. It was a high-level move, for her class, and Pian was impressed, though he hadn't the time to register the thought before the sheet of flame made contact and ripped through the shield, refusing to be redirected. Arms thrown up in a form of rudimentary protection, she was thrown back several metres across the floor and finally rolled to a stop near the wall. Letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, Pian scurried over and checked on her, wincing as he saw the unusually severe burns on her forearms and her charred tunic. But she was breathing, if a little fast.

Aaryn felt a little shaky, and her other classmate stared on in disbelief. Pian stood and pointed to the classmate.

"Healer. Be quick." The classmate obediently scurried out as fast as she could. Pian checked Rika's breathing and injuries once more, and judged them to not be life-threatening. They never should have been close to what they were. He pointed to Aaryn.

"You, my meditation room. Now." Trembling in fright, Aaryn fled into the side enclosure, leaving Rika huddled unconscious on the floor while Pian attended to her.

The next hour passed a blur, but somehow still agonizingly slow as Aaryn sat obediently in the meditation room. It was a plain place, not cramped, but private. Wooden paneling covered the wall as well as the floor, unlike the training area. Cushions for kneeling were carefully placed about the center of the room. To try and pass the time and keep her bubbling worry contained, she idly traced out the flower design tiled into the center of the floor. She was bent over and running her right index finger round the edges when the footsteps of Master Pian loudly entered the room. Jerking back as if she had been doing something wrong, she looked up with a little nervousness.

He regarded her sternly, and he was tugging at his unruly beard again.

"Rika will be fine, given a few days at the healer. But we cannot be sure if there will or will not be faint scarring." Aaryn immediately felt a little faint. That was it then. Rika would never forgive her for this if she had any scars. "But I think we have something a little more important to talk about." She tensed, expecting some lecture on her carelessness. She wasn't far off, though it didn't start as she expected it. "What you did was…" There was a slight twitch under his right eye. "…inventive." She was instantly taken aback. Was that praise?

But his tone of voice didn't suggest it. "I allow a certain amount of independence because it keeps interest in class. But there is a reason for the Forms. If you ever intend to learn more advanced techniques grounding in more basic abilities is required." She shot him a dirty look. He didn't miss it. "Your display during the spar was not acceptable. If I see such maverick and dangerous improvisation like that you displayed again I will have you removed from my tutelage."

At that Aaryn actually felt her jaw drop a little.

"Bu…but…" He couldn't do that! It was required learning, and she was sure there was some sort of rule that meant he had to teach her to a certain level. Would he really do that? Perhaps noticing her desperate and unhappy expression, he placed one hand on her shoulder.

"Aaryn, you are a good student. I would not wish to remove you from my classes. But what you did not only injured your classmate beyond what I expected, but also endangered you. I would not wish to see you hurt, nor any more of my students. Now be off." Taking the chance while it was still there, Aaryn scrambled up from the floor as quick as she could, brown hair bouncing up and down her back as she quickly departed.

* * *

Master Pian was tugging at his beard again, the unruly tangles still refusing to straighten as he sat on one of the cushions and thought for a moment. There were many thoughts in his mind. Not only did she show a level of power that he had not seen from her before, but he was sure there was something wrong with what she had just done. He simply couldn't place a finger on it, no matter how tantalizingly it danced close to comprehension and capture in his mind. 

Slowly rising, brushing the folds of his red robe down, he moved to his shelf, which was stuffed full of scrolls and the occasional book. Books were more valuble than scrolls, and he was fortunate to be able to afford the occasional one. They contained far more detailed information. He brushed along the spine of one in particular, then withdrew it and returned to his cushions, pulling the low-lying table forward. Carefully opening the book, his eyes roved about the elegant calligraphy, checking it before he turned the page. This continued for several minutes, and he had almost reached the end of the first chapter when he paused, and his finger ran down the line of symbols.

It was quite clear. It stated the basic principles of firebending, and more importantly for him, deflection.

"In order to deflect flame," he read slowly, "it must be consumed by another flame and channeled in the desired direction, away from the defending firebender. It must be noted that flame is required to form deflection. Since your own chi manifests itself outside the body as flame, it is not under your control and unlike other benders attacks against their own element it cannot be handled without injury." Tapping his fingers against the table, he looked worried. He had seen no firebending. This could be important. Or not. Standing up and replacing the book on the shelf, he moved over to a desk, and pulled open a single drawer, staring down at the Pai-Sho pieces inside contemplatively.


	4. Short Interlude: White Lotus

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

I played with the idea of integrating this scene with the larger story, but in the end I decided against it. The meeting wasn't in the same place or with the main character, nor was Aaryn aware of it, so I decided to put it in its own mini-interlude. I was always a fan of the White Lotus, and I want to portray them as a little more powerful and far-reaching than a simple cryptic society.

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

Master Pian felt the dust that coated the streets shift slightly under his sandals. It was midday, and the sun seemed to burn in the sky, pushing an oppressive heat down into the air, making it almost difficult to breathe. The heavy shimmer seemed to hang into the air, the heat and suspended dust distorting vision and making the distance sway slightly. The dry heat evaporated any sweat that welled up within instant, making it feel oddly cooler than it actually was. One small and exceptionally dangerous blessing, the Master mused, as he took a careful sip from his water pouch. It was all too easy to lose track, and by the time you began to feel faint it may be too late. 

This place was backwater, in many respects. It consisted of a single street and a great deal of farmland, and as he trudged down it towards the local tavern the local residents regarded him with suspicion. It was at a crossroads, in some aspects. Located directly between the capital city and the great shipyards where the war machine and industry was fuelled, it had a regular stream of caravans and merchants regularly which passed through without giving it a second glance. There was no reason for anybody to pause as he did and look at the houses and shop signs carefully.

Clad as he was in a plain red robe, he looked nothing like the laborers and shopkeepers, who almost all wore rough short-sleeved tunics and leggings. Some paused to watch him from the edge of shops and at the side of the street, but he ignored them. Pausing at one sign in particular, he ducked inside the door. Inside the air was cooler and seemed liberating from the horrible blanketing heat outside.

The inside of the shop was shady, with beams of light cutting through the dusty air to illuminate carefully placed shelves of plant displays. The whole layout seemed so absurdly _careful_ that it was almost comic. It was the perfect example of organization and careful nurture, and it seemed so out of place in the haphazard nature of the village.

It was at that moment the shopkeeper bustled in from the back room. He seemed so like the store itself, somehow pulling off this organized air despite soil staining his apron. His head was bald save for a pair of gray eyebrows and a drooping mustache that seemed similar to those of a koi fish, and he smiled broadly at his apparent customer.

"Hello, hello!" he said warmly, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "It is a pleasure to welcome you into my humble flower shop. Are you looking for anything in particular?" He placed his hands into his voluminous sleeves and bowed. Pian looked about the shop, apparently searching for something. His eyes fell on a Pai-Sho table in the corner, and he smiled faintly.

"Yes, thank you. I am looking for something in particular. A white lotus plant for my niece's home."

The owner of the shop paused. "Tell me, do you play Pai-Sho?" There was a slight tug at the side of his mouth, the beginnings of a smile. Pian smiled in return. This was the man he was looking for, without a doubt.

"I certainly do. It is much more than just a game." The shopkeeper bowed again, but less this time. It was a greeting, and recognized.

"Then let us play." Gesturing towards the corner, he took a seat at one side of the circular table, while Pian took the other.

The firebending master carefully sorted through his stack, organizing it for their upcoming "game". He had no desire to meticulously sort through it each time he needed a new piece for the pattern, and he quickly ordered it correctly with an efficiency that suggested he had done it many times before. He inclined his head to indicate he was ready. The shopkeep raised one arm in an inviting gesture.

"The guest has the first move." Pian smiled, and set the white lotus tile in the exact center of the board, the little click loud in the silent confines of the shop.

The shopkeep raised one eyebrow, but it was clear he had not expected anything different. "I see you favor the white lotus gambit. Not many still cling to the ancient ways." He withdrew his hands from his sleeves and gently clapped his hands together, before twisting them so the palms faced upwards.

"Those who do can always find a friend." Pian copied the gesture.

Nodding, the shopkeep laid one hand on his pieces. "Then let us play." What followed was an elegant and increasing rapid deployment of pieces, clicks increasing in speed as the tiles were placed on the board. Soon it became a rapid cacophony as they repeated the pattern from rote, and within thirty seconds both their tiles were exhausted. On the board in front them laid the design of the White Lotus. They both rose and bowed.

"Welcome, Brother. The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Pian sighed faintly. It was almost awkward, to admit he needed help. He had mastered almost every Form in firebending, but theory was not his forte. In order to understand his problem, he needed someone equally skilled in both aspects, both practical and knowledgeable. As far as he was aware, there was only one member of the White Lotus with those abilities, though he did not know his identity. That was for members like this man, those who knew all the names of the order, and went where they were needed.

"I require the help of one of our number far more skilled in the firebending arts. I have encountered…an anomaly." The shopkeeper rose one of those gray eyebrows inquisitively. It was not common for a firebending master to require help except with exceptional or willful students. Even then, it would rarely warrant the attention of a Grandmaster.

"Who are you to request this?" Knowing this was yet another move in the game, Pian was not insulted, and he was careful not to show any emotion which could be misconstrued as offense at the question.

"One who has eaten the fruit, and tasted its mysteries."

The smaller man before him tilted his head. "I will contact the Grandmaster of which you speak, but speed cannot be promised. He is a busy man." Pian nodded, once. He knew but one Grandmaster of the Order by sight, and that was by virtue of meeting him during a meeting concerning the local economy. Only those of high-rank attended, and as a master Pian had automatically been granted access and the expectation that he would attend. They had, ironically enough, met coincidentally and only recognised each other as members once they began to play a recreational game of Pai-Sho. It was only later that Pian had been called aside and they had completed the vital game which completely identified themselves. He brought his attention back to the present.

"It is not urgent, yet it is still a matter which requires attention. I have heard of Our Brother's affinity with the spirits, and it may prove useful, in addition to his knowledge." The shopkeep bowed again, then paused.

"Stay for lunch, Brother. But if this anomaly warrants the attention of a Grandmaster, I suggest you hurry back." Turning to prepare and pour some tea, he smiled faintly. "I hope you enjoy Ginseng, Brother."


	5. Chapter 4: A Saviour, A Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender

I want to thank everybody who read and reviewed(reviewers are thanked doubleplusgood) and I'm sorry for taking a while to update. College is pretty nasty at the moment, and I have a lot of work to do. Constructive criticism is always helpful, no matter how much it sinks its barbs into my very soul. Even just saying that you read it is enough to keep me encouraged, and support is always great to hear.

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur of chores, schoolwork and training for Aaryn. Her fourteenth would be coming up in just a month, and it meant some people would be showing…interest. But whenever she forgot about Kuzon, even for a moment, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Like she had abandoned him off a far off shore, even though she knew nothing could be further from the truth.

Her birthday would be more subdued, she hoped. Kuzon had all the trappings, all the local guests a coming-of-age should have…but it had just become oppressive for him. She wanted to be surrounded by friends, not friends by acquaintance. Oh, and she had no doubt her mother was going to start the marriage and relationship nagging again, now Kuzon was gone. They hadn't been a couple, but it had seemed an awful like it, and it had kept her mother at bay.

As for her firebending…the next session had been awkward. Master Pian had been carefully watching her the entire time, and she didn't dare even deviate a little from the Forms, no matter how much her body screamed that it wanted to. It wasn't that she liked what had happened. Seeing Rika burnt, no matter how much she disliked her, was nothing short of horrifying. But the motions, the way it felt…it was all so_right_.

Privately, she relieved the moment. The way she guided it, rather than controlled it, the way it gently arced and flowed…those seemed so satisfying in a way she couldn't quite describe. It sated something inside her that the young firebender didn't even know she had. The Forms were bearable, but the way the pressure screamed inside her chest before ripping out in a burst of flame felt deeply unpleasant compared to the calming flow she had experienced in those short moments.

But the results…the results of what she had done chewed at her heart. She hated what it had done to Rika, and her feelings of sadness sometimes threatened to overwhelm the feelings of guilt with which she felt were her constant companion. It had been worse when she had passed Rika in the street, her eyes moving up her heavily bandaged arms. When their eyes met, she could only watch in horror as the other girl stared back then burst into tears. At that point Aaryn fled, unable to bear that of all things. Somehow a look of hate would have been much better. But there was at least one place she could find some solace.

The bluffs were a beautiful place to her. The grass was wet with dew beneath her bare feet, the blades gently brushing against her soles with a cool touch. The occasional rock jutted out from the ground, but they had all been worn smooth by the elements, and they were all easy to spot. Occasionally Aaryn would in a moment of gay joy jump from one to the other. They added a touch of uniqueness to the environment, and she loved them for it.

It was almost intoxicating; having a place that only she cared about, a place to be alone. As far as she was aware nobody else ever came up here, andthat was fine with her. There was no way she wanted this private part of herself trampled over. There were little outcroppings that acted like tiny platforms to look out to the waves which crashed over the rocks far below. When she felt brave she would stand on one of many, surrounded by nothing but air and the sea.

In her precious free time she sated that thirst for the movements. Out on the bluffs she did anything she wanted, letting her body guide her, rather than her mind guide her body. One time she thrust out to the side, watching and feeling the flame burst out, just like had been taught to her. Then, grasping onto the flame, as if she could feel it even as the hungry jet moved away, she dragged it to the side.

In what could only be described as a smooth bank, the flame obeyed her soft flowing motions. Lowering her arms a little, using her entire upper body to guide it, Aaryn tried a rudimentary figure eight, watching in delight as it followed her, tracing bright lines into her vision. Then something inside snapped, and Aaryn's delight turned to disappointment as it suddenly broke free and shot straight into the ground, where it guttered out.

Slumping to the ground, she watched as the last flames at the edge of a now blackened circle of previously green grass struggled for life, then gave out in a final sputter and reluctant puff. She didn't understand...it had been going well until that happened. Aaryn supposed the sensation could be compared to a weight on a string. The faster and longer she spun it, the more it tried to rip away from her.

Over the next few days she tried to repeat the experiment, and almost every time she again had the pleasure of feeling the fire respond to her and begin to obediently flow into that figure of eight. But no matter how much she changed her stance, or how she moved her body, it always broke free and added a black patch to the grass or scorched a rock. Sometimes she just screamed with the frustration of it. It wasn't like a particularly difficult piece of music where she could ask for advice or help. It just made her feel so blind and helpless. The familiarity of it was sometimes more painful than the feeling itself.

Eventually, she had to concede defeat. Maybe it wasn't possible to do what she was trying. Even if it was, she was doing it wrong. So instead of trying to force it, Aaryn again let impulse guide her movements, and did what felt right. Soon a flame was circling just in front of her, and she laughed happily. After continuous failure, even this small victory was nothing short of fantastic.

Biting her lip a little, she arched her back, trying to get the flame to flow around her like a willow-o-wisp, and it seemed to work as it traced out a boundary in a string of flame that seemed tame and almost danced in time to her heartbeat and _breathing_. That was when she let off an explosive laugh of relief and happiness.

The flame instantly reacted, and instead of remaining a gentle string of flame of about a fingers width sedately circling her it almost instantly flared into a body-width, roaring inferno. Screaming in fright only seemed to fuel it as Aaryn stumbled, only to feel her back grow uncomfortably warm and begin to prickle.

The flame was moving faster and faster, contracting in a slow but deeply threatening way. She was in control, but that sensation of pent up energy within her chest was growing again, and it threatened to snap any moment. As the searing heat began to become painful, Aaryn burst into tears. This was beyond her. She was going to burn. The pent up heat inside her was growing to match that of outside, it rose to block her throat, and it burst.

At the moment the flame began to rush in towards her defenseless form bare arms thrust into the flame and ripped it apart with a single moment. Slumping to the ground, the grass blurring beneath her, Aaryn barely felt arms wrap her in an embrace as her rescuer let her sob into his chest and they sat alone in a circle of scorched grass. Like the rushing flame, darkness came to claim her.

* * *

Waking was a gradual thing, and the darkness was insistent. She would rise out of that groggy mire only to sink back into it, and would only have frustratingly short moments of consciousness, snatched conversation…she was…being carried? In those few moments she couldn't see anything but blue…was that the sky? Some shard of white blocked the side of her vision…a cloud? No…no, it was a sideburn. As from a great distance, she could hear whispers…

"The Dragon…"

Weakly groaning and rolling her head, Aaryn tried to focus, but her eyes seemed unable to respond in any meaningful way. What seemed like a finger, or maybe the back of a hand brushed something from her eyes, and suddenly she could see a little more clearly. But of all the things she could see, only one thing seemed important. Those eyes, like molten gold, deep amber, stared into hers. The darkness reached up again, wrapped its tendrils around her, and dragged her back.

The next time Aaryn came round it was quiet, and she didn't recognize where she was right away. The floor seemed familiar, but she wasn't sure how…a hand brushed across the paneling, and she hissed. The training hall. Why was she here? Had Pian seen her? Was he going to punish her? Aaryn threw off a cover she didn't even realise had been there and sat up, which she instantly regretted. The entire room swam in response, the walls blurring, and she had a horrible feeling that the building was tilting onto its side.

* * *

Groaning, eyes closed, she patted what seemed like a pile of blankets beneath her. No bed, then. But why wasn't she at home? There were…murmurs in the background. Sighing, one hand pressed to her temple, Aaryn tried to focus on them. It was almost as bad as drifting in and out, she couldn't hear anything more than snatches as the pitch and volume of the two voices changed.

"…saw her…like…shouldn't work…"

"…express permission…told her…do it…"

"…-theless...incorrect…touched…but not by…"

"…was sure…100 years…way she…"

"…even…can't…fire like that…"

"…thanks…check on her…"

Aaryn groaned. Without context she couldn't tell what on earth they were talking about. But by the sound of it they were coming to check on her. Not wanting to risk the nauseating experience that movement had brought, she refused to move and instead remained sitting up. Footsteps seemed to move closer, then rapidly increased, and arms surrounded her.

Groggily opened her eyes, and hardly acting while doing it. Again, her crystal blue eyes met amber ones, and it took her breath away. His face seemed kind, and a little concerned for her. Those white sideburns were actually more of a whitish-gray, and they surrounded his face like a short, well-trimmed mane. It stopped at about the point she would have expected a beard, and there was a bunch of hair like a little tuggable bunch which tried to pass itself off as a beard.

She smiled weakly up at him. "You saved me…didn't you?" He tugged his beard, and nodded. "You should be careful," he said in a sort of odd, slow voice. It felt wise and kind, for a voice. "You would have seriously hurt yourself, and help might not have come." He gently patted her on the arm. "I'll make you some tea."

Aaryn watched as he pottered into Master Pians meditation room. The Master himself was still standing over her, he had simply been obscured by the helpful stranger. He tugged at his own beard, but it was not nearly as well kept as her rescuer's. It was funny, how every seemed compared to him now. Pian shot a somewhat awed look at the stranger as he departed the room, then looked a little dodgy.

Producing a bowl and pouring a little water into it, he knelt next to Aaryn. "While he is making some tea, I want you to try something." Aaryn groaned. "No, no," Pian reassured. "It is just an experiment." He snapped his fingers, and a little spark of flame danced above the surface of the water, seemingly suspended there. "Now…close your eyes."

Aaryn sighed, but was otherwise all too happy to comply with that. It felt nice, to have her eyes closed. "Can you remember where the flame is?" She nodded obediently. "Reach out and bend it down into the water. No, don't open your eyes." Groaning irritably, Aaryn tried to visualize the spark of flame, felt a little of its warmth as it flared for a moment. Then she raised her arm, mentally took hold of that spark, and pushed it down.

Pian began to tremble. He knew for a fact that it was impossible to manipulate fire that was outside the boundary of your chi and under the control of another. He didn't expect the spark to move, and it wasn't. But the _water_ was. There was a trembling depression forming just below the spark. He was right. He was _right_!

"Enough." It was a single word, and followed by a dart of flame. Aaryn opened her eyes just in time to see the bowl of water go flying, spilling its contents across the floor. She gasped. The kind stranger that rescued her seemed more dangerous…not angry, but dangerous. "You saw," Pian hissed. "You saw what she did."

"I saw it, Brother. But I have already told you, she is not who you hope she is. The cycle was probably broken 100 years ago, and even unrealized the effect would be far stronger in her hands than it is."

Pian spluttered. "Maybe a fragment, a shadow of the spirit…"

"No. She is touched, yes, but not by the spirit of which you speak. What you saw was…an aftereffect." Pian slumped, rubbed his temples, and left the room, groaning. The stranger watched him go. It was only then that Aaryn noticed the steaming cup in his hand.

"I hope you like Ginseng. It is my favorite." He handed her the cup and she accepted it gratefully, feeling the heat seem through the ceramic of the cup and into her hands. She sipped it, groaning happily as it seeped down her throat.

"Thank you." Then she hesitated. "What…were you talking about?" He sighed, settling down onto the blankets next to her.

"Understand," he began. "There are people in this world who are touched by spirits. People of all four nations. You are one such person."

Aaryn blinked. "I don't understand…" she began hesitantly.

"Your Master believed…hoped, that is, that you were the Avatar. But you are not. You have a strange affinity with water, as if you were waterbender. It reacts to you, in a way, and your fire acts like it. You are a firebender, but I would not be surprised if there was some Water Tribe in your ancestry, somewhere. You have been touched, so you do not bend like the rest of us. "

"You cannot, of course," he continued, "be a waterbender and a firebender. Your skills as a waterbender will never amount to more than causing small ripples, as you just did, though you did not see it. Your true gift is how your fire acts around you. How you can make it behave."

Aaryn frowned. "How…how do you know these things?"

"I can see these things. An aura surrounds you. You have been touched by a spirit all your life, your body glows with it. But more recently, it took you. Controlled you, or guided you somehow. It shows." Aaryn suddenly remembered the way that instead of dodging Rika's fireblast she had been almost compelled to stand in its path and stop it. "This gift should be nurtured. I trust the spirits' design. You should embrace your power, not deny it." He patted her on the shoulder, then hesitated. "If you ever need help…you should ask for me."

Aaryn blinked, then laughed a little, hugging him. He seemed taken aback, something like an expression of pain flitting across his features. "I would love to…but, I don't even know who you are." He awkwardly patted her on the back, then just rested his hand on her, almost comfortingly.

"I get called a lot of things, these days. But you should just call me Iroh."


	6. Chapter 5: Iroh's Letters

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender

This is a small update, simply because nobody has really shown much interest. Unless I'm asked to update, I'm not going to, because there really isn't much point continuing a fiction nobody is going to read.

-O-O-O-O-O-

-O-O-O-O-O-

* * *

It was only after Iroh had left that Aaryn found out who he was. All in all she had been absorbed in his comments, his revelations, that she had not asked anything about him save how to contact him. He seemed so nice. Not normal, by any stretch, but he didn't seem royal at all. More like a friendly grandfather.

It was a little giddy, for a day or two afterwards, to think she had been saved by the Dragon of the West. Former Heir to the Throne. One of the greatest generals in Fire Nation history, and firebending master! After that Aaryn consumed all the information she could find on him, rumour and reputable sources alike.

Nothing short of fascinated, she traveled all the way to the nearest large town to try and find anything that wasn't already in the history books used in school. The book she permanently borrowed was heartbreaking. To lose your only son…she remembered the painful look that passed over his face when she hugged him. Fate had been cruel to him.

They kept regular correspondence for the first few months, and she came to value his letters. Her own father was off in the war, and Aaryn felt that here was somebody she could confess difficulties in everything from love to war. His return letters were carefully composed, and every so often contained a little keepsake. Carefully composed or not, they were always warm and friendly.

It was five months into the quick switching of letters that it suddenly stopped for some time. During that time Aaryn feared something had happened, but consoled herself with the knowledge that as the brother of the Fire Lord her confidant was likely busy. He probably had something serious to do for his brother, and it was occupying all his time.

It was over two months before she finally received her longest letter to date, in which he related the plight of his nephew. Aaryn felt a bit guilty, reading about it. It was like poking her nose into the affairs of the royal family! She could detect a genuine concern and warmth for Zuko in his letter. He never came close enough to admitting that he saw him like a son, and Aaryn didn't dare suggest to Iroh, who she would never want to hurt, that he felt he had failed Lu Ten and was trying to make up for it by supporting Zuko.

It came to pass that Iroh began to privately relate the trials of Zuko's life to her in every letter as a separate sheet. They came less regularly because of the nature of the banishment, but were longer for it, because the old general despised waste. The greater gap in time between letters did not widen the gulf between them, and Aaryn felt her heart glow when enclosed with every letter was the some gift he had picked out for her.

They were not great in value, but she treasured them nonetheless. She found it interesting how despite the lack of information on where they were at the moment she could practically track them by the gifts she received. There was the occasional doll with clothing specific to a region, or a statuette which was the patron spirit of a certain town. On occasion there was even a pressed flower, which was usually the most difficult. Her small personal library increased as a result of her fact-finding to solve the latest riddle, as did her botany.

Once she confided the little game she would play with the gifts in figuring out where they were sent from they became a little more mysterious and elusive in their nature. So the game continued. Some were beyond her to figure out at all, such as a small link of chain. She suspected the answer lay in the alloy, or type of metal used, or maybe the way the chain was assembled, but it proved too difficult for her.

It was after one long evening of trying to break a cipher that it happened. Falling asleep at her little table, the Voice spoke to her. It was a whisper that echoed about her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. It sounded ancient, and as if coming from a great distance. But the words were unmistakable. _You are mine._

Every single night as she fell asleep the Voice came and said the same thing. It varied in pitch, intonation, volume. But the message was always the same. _You are mine._ She wrote to Iroh almost immediately, but convinced herself to wait a few days to see if it would die away. She watched the mail carrier arrive later that day in the town, and continue onwards towards the docks.

First it would be processed, probably sent b messenger hawk to the coast closest to the Earth Kingdom, then another hawk sent over to the colonies, then the ship of the banished prince tracked to the nearest port, another hawk sent…it would take at least a month, if not longer. A reply, just as long. She would be halfway through her fifteenth year before a reply came. Aaryn supposed she could live with the Voice every night…but what concerned her was that she didn't know what it actually wanted.


End file.
